Mary
by Potatoe2012
Summary: When Mycroft and Sherlock run to the rescue of an abused woman named Mary, John wonders who she is. And how will she change their lives? Rated T for domestic abuse.
1. Chapter 1

One

Few things surprised John these days. When your best friend comes back to life after mourning him for a year, your tolerance for the abnormal and bizarre skyrockets. But for some reason seeing Mycroft at the door of 221B made his jaw drop. Mycroft didn't normally make house calls.

"Good Evening, John," he spoke casually. "Is Sherlock in?"

"Shouldn't you know?" John asked, raising his eyebrow. "Don't you have your cameras follow his every move? And mine, come to think of it?"

Mycroft drops the pleasantries, if they could be called that, and just walked past John and up the stairs. John rolled his eyes and shut the door. He heard a melody begin to play from upstairs, Sherlock apparently deciding the best time to play being when his brother entered the room. When John walked into the living room, Mycroft was leaning on his umbrella glaring at his younger brother. Sherlock gave him his most annoying smirk before sitting in his chair, pausing in his solo. When Mycroft saw his chance to speak, he took it.

"We have a problem," he said cryptically.

"No," Sherlock droned. "You have a problem. I have much more pressing cases than whatever your people have cooked up."

Sherlock stood again and walked to the window, beginning to play again, louder than before. John leaned against the doorframe seeing which brother would win. He could see Sherlock's reflection in the window and all he saw was that annoying smirk again. Mycroft waited until Sherlock's song reached a softer, slower part before speaking again.

"It's about Mary."

This caught Sherlock's attention. He stopped playing altogether, but didn't drop his arms or turn around. John waited; hoping one of them would tell him who Mary was. It felt like an eternity before Sherlock turned around to face them, letting his arms fall to his sides, violin and bow in hand. He was as unreadable as ever. He stared into Mycroft's eyes for a long time, as if they were conversing just with their eyes. Finally, Sherlock placed his violin in his chair and began putting on his coat and scarf. Mycroft walked out of the flat with Sherlock on his heels. When Sherlock looked back and saw John standing in the same spot, he looked at him like he was an idiot.

"Come on, John, we haven't got all day," he said throwing his hands in the air.

John, after punching Sherlock in his mind, grabbed his jacket and followed the Holmes Brothers out onto the street. Mycroft had his usual black car waiting outside. He slid in on one side, waiting. Sherlock held the door open on the other side. John expected him to get in but he gave John a pointed look. It took John a moment to realize that he was refusing to sit next to his brother. Rolling his eyes, John got into the car, sliding over to the middle. After Sherlock was in, the driver began driving. John, realizing neither Holmes was going to speak, decided to watch where they were going. Strangely they were heading into a rather seedy, crime-ridden part to the city. Finally, Sherlock broke the silence.

"So what exactly happened?" he asked peering around John at his brother.

"All you need to know is that she'll be staying with you for a while," Mycroft answered. "She can fill you in on the details."

That ended all conversation, but only gave John more questions instead of answers. Who was this woman to the two Holmes and why was she staying with them? And what had happened? John was about to voice these questions when the car came to a stop outside a noisy nightclub by the name of "The Vibe". Sherlock and Mycroft were quickly out of the car and John followed as fast as he could. Even though there was a line half way down the street, Mycroft and Sherlock strolled right up to the door and were let in by the bouncer. When the giant man tried to stop John, Mycroft simply gave him a bit of cash, saying he was with them.

Inside was dark with colorful lights flashing everywhere. There was a stage about two or three feet high with a band blaring music. Connected to the stage and wrapping all around the room was a bar. He noticed some of the dancers jumped back and forth between the stage and the bar. There was even a few poles on the stage and the bar, though John suspected they were for dancing instead of stripping. The floor was packed with people dancing provocatively to the music. Most of the crowd was under the age of twenty-five, some even looked like they were minors who'd gotten in with fake IDs. John wondered why this Mary woman would be here, but he just followed his companions silently to the bar where they sat and ordered drinks. They sat there for a while, another band had taken the stage by the time Mycroft spoke.

"Alright, you stay here, I'll find him," he spoke directly to Sherlock. This statement confused John even more and once Mycroft left he began his inquiry.

"Who's 'him'?" John had to shout over the music. "I thought we were here for a woman named Mary. What's going on?"

Before Sherlock could answer, the crowd began to scream wildly. John looked to the stage to see a young woman approaching the mic. She was very pretty, with long dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Before she could reach the mic, a band member ran to it and snatched it away.

"Oi! Guess who's celebrating her birthday today!" he looked mischievously at the young woman. She merely smirked at him. He grinned at her. "Everybody say 'Happy 24th' to Mary!"

As the crowd shouted to the woman, John looked at Sherlock to see if this was his Mary. He showed no emotion, but the way he stared at her told John that she was. John looked back to see Mary snatch the mic from her band mate and nudge him to his instrument. She turned back to the crowd and smiled.

"Yes, I know, I'm so old!" she said with a giggle. Everyone laughed with her. "So for my birthday I had all of you regulars tweet your choices for tonight's show. I hope you enjoy the results."

The band began an upbeat song and the woman began to dance around. John, who didn't listen to this genre, didn't know the song but found the lyrics very provocative. Mary's voice, he noticed, was amazing. She seemed to have a lot of experience but had started with amazing raw talent. The lyrics, "I am a freak, I'm disturbed" caught his attention as he watched her roll her hips around. He looked away and took a sip of his drink. He was 17 years her senior, he shouldn't ogle at her like some hormonal school boy. He waited for Sherlock to do something, but the consulting detective merely turned back to his drink and waited silently. He looked back at Mary after a few songs and saw her looking at them. Well, at Sherlock. She began to sing a song John did recognize, strangely: Bleeding Love by Leona Lewis. She would glance at Sherlock every once in a while. John even noticed a tear run down her cheek. He thought perhaps it was just her way of selling the song but noticed Sherlock had looked back and stared at her intently.

It was pushing midnight and Mycroft still hadn't returned to them. Mary was singing another suggestive song, smiling as if she hadn't cried only several songs ago. This song she decided to jump up onto the bar, however, dancing, even swinging around one of the poles. During an instrumental portion of the song, she walked down the bar and sat on it right next to Sherlock. She smiled carelessly at him, kissed his cheek and continued singing. She hopped off the bar and made her way through crowd. John watched her dance with random people in the crowd as she made her way back to the stage. The kiss, however innocent it seemed, made John wonder if maybe this was an ex-girlfriend of Sherlock's. Highly unlikely, but always a possibility. Sherlock still hadn't offered an explanation so John continued trying to figure it out. Suddenly, Sherlock stood up. John followed his eyes to the stage where Mary was saying goodnight to the crowd. John stood as well and followed Sherlock who seemed to be headed to a door marked BACKSTAGE: EMPLOYEES ONLY. Ignoring the sign, Sherlock just pushed through into a hallway with doors all the way down it. Sherlock seemed to know exactly where he was going as he turned twice, taking them past the door onto the stage. John could hear another band starting up as they passed. They finally reached a door that read MARY. Without even knocking, Sherlock opened the door. The dressing room wasn't extravagant but was fairly large and clean. Sitting at a vanity was Mary. Upon hearing the door open she looked up into the mirror. All the joy and laughter she'd had on stage seemed to have disappeared. She just stared at Sherlock with a blank stare for what seemed like forever. Finally Sherlock spoke.

"Mycroft is taking care of things."

She only looked down, nodding. It seemed John was the only one who was in the dark. He stood slightly behind Sherlock, still unable to deduce the situation.

"Where am I to go?" she asked looking back up at Sherlock.

"For now, you'll stay with us," Sherlock stated. Mary merely nodded before standing and grabbing a rucksack from the floor. As she placed some of her things in it, John noticed her cheek had a bruise on it. She'd done an excellent job of covering it with make up for the stage. But standing so close to her, John finally saw it. Looking closer, he saw several old ones on her arms and even some around her neck. This woman had been tossed around on a number of occasions. From the looks of her cheek the most recent was today. Sherlock had noticed as well, because he finally walked into the room gently grabbing her jaw to inspect her cheek. In the mirror, John saw pure anger in his eyes. Mary pulled away looking ashamed. The proximity in which they stood reinforced John's ex-girlfriend theory.

After finishing packing, Mary waited for Sherlock to lead the way out. It was then that Sherlock remembered John and turned to look at him.

"Oh, John," he said suppressing his rage, "May I introduce Mary, my sister."


	2. Chapter 2

Two

The ride back to Baker Street was quiet. After shaking Mary's hand with his jaw hanging to the floor, John had followed the Holmes siblings out the back door where Mycroft's car was waiting. Mycroft wasn't in the car, which made John wonder what "things" he was taking care of.

Mary sat in between John and Sherlock staring blankly ahead, her only movement was due to the turns of the car. Sherlock didn't speak to her; he didn't even look at her, choosing instead to stare out the window. John felt extremely awkward. He silently thanked God when they arrived at 221B. He got out with Mary following right behind. She seemed to struggle with her enormous rucksack so John stepped closer.

"May I?" he asked holding out his hand, gesturing to her bag. She seemed surprised but nodded all the same, handing him the strap.

"Thank you," she said, still surprised. When John turned around, heaving the straps over his shoulders, he saw Sherlock already unlocking the front door and strolling in. John, ever the gentleman, allowed Mary in first before walking in and locking the door behind him. Upstairs, a violin began playing a rather irritated tune.

When John and Mary walked into the living room, Sherlock paused his playing to point to John's chair with his bow. Mary sat in it while he began to play again. John wasn't sure what to do so he placed her bag on the couch and went to make tea.

By the time he had handed Mary a cup Sherlock still hadn't stopped his self-composed tune. Mary seemed to have endless patience, unlike Mycroft, for Sherlock's playing; she just watched him with a hint of amusement. She seemed to be waiting for a scolding.

Finally, after a rather aggravated finale, Sherlock sat in his chair placing his violin and bow on the table. He looked at Mary for a long moment before leaning forward, elbows on his knees, hands folded like he was praying.

"Start from the beginning," he said softly. "What happened?"

Finally, John thought, someone's going to provide some answers.

"About six months ago," Mary began. "Danny and I were having a row. We've had a lot of them in the past year, but this time it became physical. He slammed me against the wall and left bruises on my arms. Mycroft would have called you in then but you know my work leaves me banged up a lot so it didn't raise any alarms for him." John silently wondered what her work was. "Then it happened again a few weeks later. It became more and more frequent. We'd yell, he'd throw a punch, then the next morning he'd apologize and take me to lunch. Finally, Mycroft became suspicious. He planned a little experiment. He sent Danny and I on a trip to Paris for my birthday. We were gone for a month, got back two days ago. When I came back with bruises still, he figured out who gave them to me. Yesterday, around noon, Mycroft called me and told me about his plan and what he'd deduced. He told me he'd take care of things and hung up. Then I saw you at the club and knew that when he said 'things' he meant Danny."

Mary had kept her head down during most of her explanation. She'd glance at Sherlock every once in a while but couldn't look him in the eyes for very long. John remained standing in between the kitchen and the living room as she spoke. Some of his answers had been answered at least. Mary was Sherlock and Mycroft's sister. She had been abused by either a boyfriend or a husband. She would be staying with them until Mycroft "took care" of this Danny fellow.

"Well then," Sherlock said. "Whatever Mycroft is up to, it will probably take some time. You're probably tired after your performance. You may have my bed tonight. Goodnight Mary."

Mary looked like she wanted to argue but instead stood up and grabbed her bag. She paused before walking over to Sherlock and kissing his cheek. He made a face of disgust which she giggled at before leaving the room. When she wasn't looking, John saw Sherlock's face go from disgusted to touched. It was a strange expression on the face of Sherlock Holmes. John sat down in his chair and looked at Sherlock.

"So," he said. "Why didn't you ever tell me you had a sister?"

"I didn't see it as necessary." Sherlock replied. "The only sibling of mine that interferes with my life is Mycroft so he was the only one you needed to know. Mary tends to stay out of the way. Likes detaching herself for the Holmes name, she does."

"Alright, then," John said slowly. "This Danny; is it her boyfriend or-"

"Husband, obviously," Sherlock scolded. "Didn't you see the ring on her finger? Even if she wasn't my sister, that fact would have been clear as day."

"Right," John wasn't quite sure where to go next. "Um, what exactly is Mycroft planning?"

"Who knows," Sherlock dismissed. "He could be threatening the man to leave the country, or planning to kill the man in his sleep. That doesn't matter. Our job is to keep an eye on Mary until he's done."

With that, Sherlock stood up and went into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of tea. John followed him.

"Okay, one last question," John spoke. "What is her job that leaves her so bruised her brother can't tell she'd being abused?"

"It's complicated," Sherlock said trying to explain himself. "Basically she works undercover for the police. You'll have to ask her to explain it. I'm going to take a shower."

After he left, John stood in the kitchen for a while. When he was nearly done his tea, Mary came out of Sherlock's room. She gave him a shy smile before walking over and sitting across from him.

"Sherlock said you wanted to know about my work," she stated. John looked up at her and nodded. He poured her a cup of tea as she began.

"In a way, I do just what Sherlock does; I read people. Specifically, I read the creeps, the rapists, and the killers. It's why my band and I perform in such a shady area. All the criminals are in that club. My job is to flirt with them, get their attention off of any other women, and become the perfect victim for them. Once I've got solid proof of what they are, I detain them and call Lestrade. My testimony and evidence are given privately to a judge so the men I put away never suspect. It's practically fool-proof. But like I said, I can get banged up. Some of the more abusive ones leave a few marks on me. But it only serves as more evidence, so I don't mind."

"I see it now," John whispered. Mary looked at him curiously. "At first I couldn't see any resemblance between you and Sherlock. But you both get very excited when you talk about your work. It's in the eyes. Almost like a child with candy."

This made Mary smile. She had a lovely smile.

"So besides following my brother all over England to sniff dead bodies, what do you do?" she asked. Her phrasing made John laugh.

"There's not much time for anything else. I've got a part time job. Sometimes I'll have a few dates, between cases, of course. But helping Sherlock is a full-time job, I'm afraid. And he's rubbish at giving vacations."

This made Mary laugh. She had a lovely laugh.

It was then that Sherlock appeared, dressed in pajamas, hair wet. He seemed surprised to see Mary.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" he sounded like her father. She glanced sideways at John, rolling her eyes at her brother, then gave John one last smile before leaving. Sherlock went to his desk and began typing on his laptop. John decided now would be a good time to write on his blog.

Their most recent solved case had been a woman at the bottom of the Thames. Sherlock had found her killer just by her nail polish. It had only taken a few hours but the process had been tedious and exhausting. It took John about an hour to type up every detail. After posting it, he noticed a comment on it in less than a minute. _Painting your nails was completely necessary, John. I needed to see the amount of time it took to dry to determine if the killer's alibi was legitimate, which it was not._ John turned around to glare at the back of Sherlock's head.

"Have you been sitting there refreshing the page repeatedly, waiting to comment on this?" he asked. Sherlock didn't turn to face him as he answered.

"I have to be sure you are presenting the case properly," he said. "You are getting better, but you still write about the unimportant details instead of the ones that truly helped the case."

"People like to read about the unimportant stuff," John explained, "gives them a better picture of what was happening."

Even though John couldn't see his face, the exasperated sigh Sherlock let out implied he was rolling his eyes.

Before Sherlock could make another comment, the two men heard a cry from Sherlock's room. It sounded like someone being tortured. Sherlock was on his feet, knocking over his chair, in less than a second. John followed him into his room where they found Mary curled in a ball, clutching her head, screaming with tears running down her face. Sherlock sat next to her and pulled her into his arms. If he wasn't so concerned for Mary, John would have been shocked by Sherlock's display of affection. Mary stopped screaming but continued to sob into Sherlock's chest. John couldn't even tell if she was awake or not.

Sherlock held Mary tight, stroking her hair and soothing her. John felt a little intrusive so he went back to the kitchen to find something to calm Mary down and help her sleep more peacefully. He felt a tug at his heart when he thought about how miserable she looked. He'd seen women cry before but this was far worse. Mary's emotions seemed to be causing her physical pain. He wanted to help her. Without even realizing it, John had made a promise to take all the misery out of this one girl's life.

**Questions, Comments, Concerns? Leave a Review and let me know**


	3. Chapter 3

Three

It had been close to three in the morning when John had gone to bed, so waking up at seven was not ideal. However, it was unavoidable due to the music blaring from the kitchen. He figured Sherlock had some new experiment, though he couldn't figure out what. Perhaps he was trying to see how much he could irritate John before getting his head knocked against the wall.

So John was highly surprised when he walked into the kitchen to see the youngest Holmes. Mary was dressed in a small tank top, and short shorts covered in sleeping bunnies. Her long blonde hair was tied in a messy bun on the top of her head, bouncing around as she danced to the loud music. She had her back to him and hadn't seen him walk in.

"Hey, I just met you!" she sang along, beautifully of course, with the small radio on the counter. "And this is crazy! But here's my number! So call me, maybe!"

John fought the urge to burst out laughing. It was then he noticed the platefuls of pancakes, bacon, and eggs sitting on the table. Mary, still dancing and singing, was standing over the stove flipping a half-done pancake.

"Before you came into my life, I missed you so bad!" she sang, turning around to grab the plate of pancakes. She noticed her audience of one, pausing her singing for only a second before smiling and continuing to sing, dance, and cook. John watched as she filled a plate with two pancakes, several slices of bacon, and a scoop of eggs before placing it on the table. She gave him a look and he realized that the plate was for him.

Sitting down and taking a bite of eggs, John was surprised at how good they were. John settled into his breakfast as Mary turned up the radio. John thought it was a little too loud but noticed her staring intently at Sherlock's door as she turned it up even more. As a new song started up, Mary began to used two spatulas and her dirty pans as a drum set. After a minute of this and watching the door, Mary tossed the spatulas in the sink and walked over to the door.

"Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!" she sang as loud as John thought humanly possible. She stood there through several measures, probably damaging her vocal chords.

"Let's go crazy, crazy, crazy 'til we see the sun! I know we only met but-!" she was interrupted by Sherlock's door being yanked open, revealing a disheveled Sherlock. He glared at his younger sister who only grinned at him and twirling around, practically floating to the table and preparing him a plate. He sat down where she placed it and angrily stabbed his fork into a pancake. Mary continued to dance as she began cleaning up the pans.

John couldn't believe this was the same girl who he'd seen screaming and sobbing only five hours ago. She seemed blissfully ignorant of her situation. She smiled as if she hadn't a care in the world. John finished his food and kept watching her to see if she was just putting on an act for her brother. But Sherlock would see through it if she was so there'd be no point. Plus, to John, she seemed genuinely cheerful. Her smile reached her eyes.

"Remind me," Sherlock finally spoke. "How old did you turn yesterday?"

"Twenty-four, dear brother."

"Then why is it I'm being woken in the same manner as I was when you were six?" Sherlock asked sarcastically. Mary just grinned at him again and took both of their plates. "Hey! I'm not done!"

"Yes, you are," Mary said, ending any argument from Sherlock. John was surprised. He'd never seen Sherlock eat very much, yet he'd eaten nearly two platefuls. However, Mary's cooking was amazing…

"So," Mary said turning off the radio and turning to Sherlock. "What are we doing today?"

"I don't recall promising you an outing," Sherlock said, still annoyed at her stealing his plate. When he looked up at her, she wore a pout that John recognized as the 'puppy dog pout'. Sherlock was glaring at her more and more each second. Pout vs. Glare, John deemed this battle. Shockingly to John, Pout won.

"Fine," Sherlock caved. Mary giggled and clapped her hands together. "Go get your coat."

"Thanks, Sherly." She kissed his cheek and darted off. John waited a moment before bursting with laughter. Sherlock then turned his glare on him.

"Sherly?" he asked between laughs. Sherlock glared harder.

"Shut up."

Mary came back into the room a few minutes later fully dressed and pulling on a jacket. Sherlock then took his turn in his room to change. While waiting on him, Mary turned to John. She tilted her head to the side as if confused; John thought this incredibly cute.

"Aren't you gonna get dressed?" she asked. John gave her an equally confused look.

"Sorry?"

"I assumed you'd be joining us…" This surprised John.

"Do you want me to?" he asked. She gave him a soft smile.

"Yes."

And that was all it took: that small smile and her big blues eyes giving him the most tempting look. He didn't reply, he just walked into his room and got dressed. When he returned, Sherlock was wrapping his scarf around his neck and opening the door for Mary. She looked over and gave John another smile. What was she doing to him?

As they got into a cab, Mary sitting in between them again, John realized he didn't know where they were going; again. Then he heard Sherlock tell the cabbie to take them to a park that was close by. It was where John had reunited with Mike after returning home. The day he had met Sherlock.

They merely walked for a while, but soon Sherlock became bored and went off on his own to observe the people in a crowd watching an impromptu concert. John and Mary chose to sit on a bench close by and watch him from afar, like the way parents watch a toddler on a playground.

"So John," Mary began, "tell me something about you."

"I'm not very interesting." He laughed. "But I'm very curious about you. Sherlock never even told me he had a sister, so all I know about you is what you told me last night. Oh! And that you're a great cook."

This made Mary laugh that beautiful laugh. John really liked hearing it.

"Alright…hmmm," she thought for a moment. "Well, I'm the baby of the family. Don't worry there aren't any more of us hidden anywhere." This made John laugh. "By the time I was born, Mycroft was already out of the house so I'm not very close with him. Love him, of course, but I'm much closer to Sherlock. I was the normal one of the family, if you'd believe it. But that made me a bit of a black sheep to them. Don't get me wrong, I was always good a observing and deducing like Sherlock and Mycroft, but where Mycroft preferred politics and Sherlock preferred science, I preferred music and art. I've been singing since I could talk. I also enjoyed people more than they did so I had more of a social life."

"Ah, a Holmes with an understanding of human emotions? That's different." John joked, making Mary laugh again. John waited a moment before asking his next question. "So…where did you meet your husband?"

"College." Mary answered, not seemingly bothered. "We met my first year. He was in his third. We got married a few months after he finished. He nearly convinced me to quit school so we could try having a child but I told him no. Glad I did, too. Once my music career finishes I'll have my degree to fall back on. Also I think a child would complicate our whole situation." This subject had taken a turn towards upsetting Mary so John quickly changed it.

"What was your degree for?" he asked. Mary smiled, seeing through his change of subject but taking it.

"Education," she said. "I used to tutor back at boarding school and enjoyed it."

John wanted to ask more about her but Sherlock walked back to them and grabbed Mary's hand and pulling her up.

"Sister, dear, the young man singing over there cannot stay on key. I've asked and they said you may sing instead." He explained as John stood.

"I'm so glad you asked me if I wanted to sing before you volunteered me," Mary said sarcastically. Sherlock gave her an 'are you stupid' look.

"You always want to sing," he said simply. Mary almost said something but thought about it and shrugged, agreeing with him. With this, Sherlock led her over to the band and left her there to speak with the band there. The drummer seemed to recognize her from the club and welcomed her. Sherlock and John stood closer to the crowd and waited. Mary and the band seemed to choose a song and took their places. The drummer started a beat and they began.

"I'm wide awake." Mary sang. John was captivated once again by how amazing her voice was. The words surprised John. He wondered why she would pick such a sad song that would remind her of her situation. Perhaps, he thought, that was how she dealt with things: by singing about them. "I wish I knew then, what I know now. Wouldn't dive in, wouldn't bow down."

John looked over at Sherlock but the consulting detective was staring at the members of the crowd, still observing. John shook his head and returned to watching Mary. She smiled as she sang, an honest smile like the one from breakfast. He didn't know how she did it. She seemed to enjoy every second of life, no matter what was happening. He wished she had been around when he was mourning Sherlock, she would have cut his grieving time in half with her joyful spirits. Although, John wasn't quite sure how she would have handled her brother's 'death'. She may have been worse than John, he made a mental note to ask her one day.

Soon enough the song was over and the crowd was cheering loudly. Mary gave a small bow with the band and gave the mic back to their singer. She then walked back over to John and Sherlock.

"Hey, everybody," they all looked back to the band to see the drummer talking into the mic. "If you want to hear that beautiful voice again, she sings at "The Vibe" most nights of the week."

The crowd cheered again and Mary gave the drummer a small wave as thank you. She then followed her brother away from the crowd and towards the road where he hailed a cab. John walked a little ways behind them as they spoke, trying to give them privacy. He did hear Mary thank Sherlock for asking her to sing. When they got into the cab, John saw Mary give a shudder.

"You all right?" John asked.

"I've seen that drummer in the club before," Mary explained. "I've read him plenty of times. He's a major creep. He's not dangerous or anything, believe me I would have put him away long ago if he was, but he always watches me. Once he tried to dance on stage with me but security threw him out. I really hope he isn't there tonight."

"Tonight?" Sherlock asked. He looked at his sister concerned. "Mary, I'm not allowed to let you out of my sight until Mycroft fixes everything. And I can't follow you around all night as you dance on a bar. I have cases."

"And I have band-mates who expect me to be there tonight." Mary countered. She definitely knew how to hold her own against Sherlock. "Danny isn't stupid enough to come to the club, Sherlock. I'll be fine."

"I can't take that risk." Sherlock said.

"Sherlock-!"

"I'll go with her," John cut in, anything to stop them from arguing. Although, he sounded a bit eager to himself, he hoped they hadn't noticed.

"What?" Both Holmes' asked.

"Yeah," John said. "It'll be fine. Mary will sing and I'll keep an eye on her while you work on your cases. I'll get her there and back, safe and sound."

Mary turned her head towards Sherlock, begging with her eyes. Sherlock looked back and forth at them before nodding his head. Mary grinned and kissed her brother's cheek before turning to John.

"Thank you, John," she exclaimed kissing his cheek as well. John resisted the urge to touch the spot she'd kissed. He just smiled.


End file.
